Knowing Nothing Is Better than Knowing It All
by GoddessofSnark
Summary: He'd called her an insufferable knowitall. He'd mocked her, tormented her, and refused to accept anything less than perfection from her. She knew now what he was trying to achieve. Not DH compliant.


_Insufferable-know-it-all._ That was what she had been called. For seven years she had sat there, listening to him berate her. About her teeth. About her hair. About her friends. But almost always about being an insufferable know-it-all. He'd berate her for raising her hand, and knowing the answer when the rest of the class did not. While her other teachers were surprised, while her other teachers were impressed, he was not.

For seven years she strove to find the one thing that would impress him. For seven years, she had fought long and hard to finally eke out a word of acceptance from him. A compliment. All of the other professors were quick to come up with something to say in regards to her ability to answer any question they pitched to the class, but he acted as if it was a curse. Something to hate her for.

It became a sort of competition between the two of them. She hadn't noticed it until the end of her fifth year. But for every question she'd answer, he'd throw a harder one back at her. A more obscure question about an even more obscure fact. And he'd take pleasure whenever he'd find the one point that she didn't know. Whenever she'd back down shyly with an "I don't know, Sir." he'd smirk at her, and go back to teaching the same way as always.

It had become a battle of wills. Of him to keep consistently challenging her, and her consistently proving that she was good enough. It was the last thing that she wanted before she graduated. To gain his respect, however grudgingly. She had devoted her entire school career to finally dragging a compliment from those thin, sneering lips.

She had only wanted him to accept that she was intelligent. As all her other professors had. But he was not like any of her other professors. The others came to regard it as a fact of lie that Hermione Granger would always have the answer to their questions. And that the answer would always be right. They'd come to grant her her wishes when she'd ask for the rest of the year's work early, just to keep herself occupied.

All but he. He had refused to give in and accept that she was intelligent. He called her an insufferable-know-it-all, capable only of regurgitating what the books said and incapable of applying it in any usefu function. She had proven him wrong time and time again, and yet he refused to admit it. She could see why Harry hated him so badly.

But as she stood there, paralyzed by fear on the battlefield she realized what he had done. By never ceding an inch he had made her so much the better. By forcing her to continue learning well beyond what she needed to to try and prove herself. He held her to a standard of perfection that he held no one else to.

He had given her the greatest compliment he could give to a student in demanding perfection from her. He saw the opportunity for perfection in her. And he demanded nothing less. While he would let the others get by with haphazard work he expected more from her. And by refusing to accept anything less than perfection was more of a compliment from him than his saying she was a bright witch.

And as she stood there, unable to move out of sheer terror, she saw him fall. Over the past seven years they had built a relationship. It was different from the relationship she had had with the former headmaster, who tended to dote and be cryptic. It was different from the relationship she'd head with her head of house who acted as the strict aunt. It was different from the relationship with Madam Pomfery, who fretted over her like a mother. But it was a relationship none the less.

She supposed under different circumstances they could have been friends. Under different circumstances she would not have been here wetting herself as curses flew within inches of her. But seeing him fall spurred her into action. He was the only one who had forced her to better herself rather than letting her stagnate at the top. She couldn't let him die here. He had done more to change her life than anyone else had.

If he had given up they would have never gotten past their first year. They would have never gotten to the stone. If he had given up, they would have never defeated the basilisk. If he had given up, they would have never found out the truth about Sirius. If he had given up, they would have been dead long before now. But he had spent the past seven years dropping subtle clues, forcing her hand in learning the material to prove to him that she was just as good as every student in the class. And she had to do something for that.

As she crossed the field she wondered if she would have been better off not proving herself. If she would have been better off acting an idiot, better off acting as if she wasn't as intelligent as she was. If she would have been better off being ignorant. If she had been, she wouldn't be friends with the boy who lived. If she had been, perhaps the world would have been different and she would not be here, walking across the field. Perhaps knowing nothing was better than knowing it all.

She found him lying there, drawing in ragged breaths. She fought through the fog to remember healing spells. She mumbled spell after spell, trying to think of one that would work, she could feel eyes on her through the mask. 'No.' She said simply as she watched the heaving chest heave less and less with every breath. If she hadn't bothered, if she wasn't a know it all she wouldn't be caring right now.

She could feel the encroaching Death Eaters. She had a choice, save him, or stop them. To save him would to be to sacrifice herself. She thought for a second, before she knew what she had to do. He hadn't spent the past seven years refusing to give up in his attempts to drive her to perfection to have her die here. She drew away, pointing her wand at each Death Eater in turn, sending them all down in turn. Stunning, petryfying, banishing, anything it took until the small group of them were gone.

She looked down at the body at her feet, and she could sense eyes on her. "Well done Miss Granger. Fifty points to Gryffindor." she felt the single tear slide down her face. She would have been better off being an ignorant idiot. A dunderhead, as he was so fond of saying. She would not have been here. She would not be caring. Knowing nothing was better than knowing it all.


End file.
